Happy New Year

As we say goodbye to one year, we say hello to another. 

2011 has been the most challenging yet rewarding year of my short life so far. As I look back over the last twelve months, I realise how much I have to be grateful for. The support I have received from my family, friends and, of course, my girlfriend, has been overwhelming. 

I am a very lucky boy.

I hope you all have a fantastic night tonight, welcoming 2012 with crossed arms, out-of-tune singing and midnight kisses.

More importantly I wish you all a happy new year. May it bring health, happiness and, least importantly, wealth. 

Now let's all get pissed! 

See you on the other side.

DC x

Leaving on a Jet Plane

I was unsure whether I would have a chance to write on here again whilst I was still in France and the year was still 2011. However, no sooner had I taken my suitcase out of its hiding place than I found myself in my chair and a million different websites on which I can speak bullshit appeared on my laptop screen.

So here I am, on my last full day in France until 2012. And what a day it has been.

You can tell whether you will have a good or bad day during the first five minutes of being out of bed. Sure enough, the first thing I did this morning was lose a contact lens. I then proceeded to go on the standard half-blind (I had successfully fixed the first lens to my eyeball) hunt on my hands and knees for said contact lens, consequently running out of time for my compulsory morning coffee. I went to my first class where the students were merciful and did all the work. I then had a free lesson and upon entering my poorly-lit 'bedroom' almost immediately found the lens. I plunged it into saline solution and prayed for the best. I am yet to check it, but I will wear the damned thing tomorrow regardless of the state it is in. After all, while I can see I will be vain. If, however, the dodgy lens makes me blind then I can simply imagine I look like George Clooney. Grey hair and all.

The next five classes of the day were some of the worst I have had since arriving in France. The pupils are all very excited for the holidays and lessons based on Christmas were apparently worsening their already turbulent behaviours. I had to send one pupil to 'La Vie Scolaire' for the first ever time, which just shows how much he pushed my patience. Despite this overly-stressful day, however, my high spirits could not be broken. I am returning to England tomorrow. That fact alone will keep a smile fixed firmly on my increasingly wonky face and a sparkle in my ever-shrinking eyes.

I returned to Narbonne and went for my last stroll through the city whilst it is still a winter wonderland. I picked up a few last-minute Christmas presents to ensure that everyone in my household has at least one French gift, and returned to pack procrastinate. 

I will not go through every day that has passed since my '20 Things' post (which, by the way, has had the highest number of views out of all my posts. Thanks guuuyyysss). The only day I will vaguely tell you about is Saturday. I went to Narbonne's light show with Marisa and Chris, which was much better than I had anticipated seeing as Narbonne has never had that much to offer before. I took lots of videos but due to a slow internet connection I will not attempt to upload them onto this right now. I will, though, show you some festive photos.

On the left is the town square, not a great photo but you get the idea: lights and trees.

Below right is the walk past the town hall with a red carpet and lots of 'snowy' Christmas trees. Also, you get a glimpse of Chris, you lucky people.

Below left is a Christmassy hut and a big Christmas tree. Sometimes I feel like I patronise you.

Later on Saturday evening, I went to the English girls' house for some drinks. There, I confirmed that I am one of the most awkward people I have ever met. 

It feels very surreal that I am returning to my homeland tomorrow. I am extremely excited but I do not think I will fully accept it until I am there. In my head, I have already missed my train, lost my suitcase, got on the wrong plane, and ended up spending Christmas in Yugoslavia. Well, if you imagine a worst-case scenario you can only ever be pleasantly surprised.

I will miss certain things about France. Cheese, beer and being able to escape from awkward situations with a simple 'je ne comprend pas' come immediately to mind. There are more things, I am sure, but I know that in a short three weeks it will all start again. 

Until then, I hope time passes me by a little slower than it has during the last month or so.

As I am sat here with an empty suitcase, clothes strewn about the place and wearing only a towel, guilt has started to smother me, as well as a slight chill in areas that I would prefer to be warmer. So, I will get a move on and prepare myself for what I hope will be a smooth, non-stressful day. 

That's the beauty about being a human: If nothing else there is always hope.

DC

20 reasons why I am excited for England!

Over the last week-or-so I have been thinking more and more about my return to England for Christmas. Initially, I was just excited at the thought of being back on British soil. As you let your mind get carried away, however, you start to think of the smaller things. I thought I would share with you a list of things I am most looking forward to, mainly because I have a day off and Sigean is a boring place.

So here it is, 20 things I am looking forward to (in no particular order):

20 - Fresh milk. Milk over here is just obnoxious. It's all like, 'Look at me! I never go off and I make tea taste funny!'. I am looking forward to fresh, British milk that even when it smells disgusting after a few days, we still sip... just to make sure.

19 - Fry-up. We usually have a fry-up on Christmas morning for breakfast, to prepare our stomachs for a day of binge-eating. A nice, big, greasy full English with fatty bacon, sausages and eggs all from British farms, and some nice mushrooms fried up on the side. Excuse me while I wipe the drool from my chin.

18 - Money. I cannot wait to hold a nice, crisp twenty-quid note rather than this European Monopoly money.

17 - Tesco, Sainsbury's, The Co-op... British supermarkets. Where you have time to pack your shopping into bags before the next customer has their items thrown at them at ridiculous speeds.

16 - The English language. I cannot put into words (rather ironically) how excited I am to be speaking, reading, writing and hearing the most beautiful language that has ever existed on a daily basis.

15 - Cider. I am from the South-West of England, need I say more?

14 - British nightclubs. The smell of piss and stale alcohol, people vomiting in the toilets, awkward British dance moves, greasy food on the walk home, forgetting everything in the morning. Heaven.

13 - The 3 musketeers.

12 - Exeter University. Walking up tens of hills to get anywhere to see the new improvements to campus, safe in the knowledge that I do not have to attend lectures or seminars for another 10 months.

11 - Shops open on Sundays. Waking up on a Sunday to discover you have run out of milk is never a good feeling. It is worse when you also know that no shops are open and it is not worth going on a trek to find one that is (refer to point 1).

10 - English TV. Flicking through channels and ending up on a completely trashy programme because it is too unbelievable to switch off... and end up watching not only the rest of the episode, but the entire series.

9 - Sitting at home in front of the fire. Warmth, comfort, family and tea. Parfait.

8 - Christmassy stuff. The lights, the decorations, Christmas songs in shops, Santa's grotto (awkward moment, forgot the English for this and had to ask a friend).

7 - Christmas films. The classics that are always repeated on TV: Love Actually, It's A Wonderful Life, Muppet's Christmas Carol, Home Alone, Chicken Run... Die Hard.

6 - Sarcasm. So many times I have made sarcastic comments and have been taken seriously. Like when I told one class that I had 3 wives and they told the rest of the school. I look forward to telling someone they look hideous, and them knowing that I have really just paid them a massive compliment.

5 - New Year's Eve. Yes, it is the most hyped-up night of the year that always turns out to be slightly disappointing... but not for me. Drinking and dancing in Salisbury with some of my closest friends is all I want to begin the new year.

4 - The train journey from Exeter to Salisbury. During this 1hr52mins (approx) I will feel as if I am truly going home.

3 - Cuddles. Cuddles with my mummy and my sisters. Cuddles with my girlfriend. That is about as soppy as I will get on this blog. Now fuck off and read on.

2 - Family. I have a massive family and they are all crazy. They are also all intelligent, talented, beautiful and caring. I will forever be grateful for my wonderful family, and I cannot wait to see them again. Plus, there have been two new additions since I moved to France, which makes it that little bit more special.

1 - Waking up and thinking, "I'm home."

The best thing about this list, is that while I wrote it I also thought of things I will miss about France.
Maybe I will share it some other time, though.

DC

When in France, do as the Romans do.

I promised myself that in the first sentence of this post I would not mention 'Time', however after trying to think of something else for ten minutes, I gave up. Time really is zooming past me at impressive and terrifying speeds. I cannot believe it was ten days ago that I last posted and I cannot believe that in ten days I will be in England. These past couple of weeks have been simply amazing; my time in France has been everything I wished it would be. I have not, of course, forgotten my first month-or-so here and its hardships, but that seems to have happened a lifetime ago. 

One aspect of my year abroad that will always keep me grounded, I think, is the work-side of things. The pupils' behaviour continues to worsen but my tolerance is definitely improving. I have acquired the longest fuse in the world, but it still gets burnt out by the end of most lessons. I found out that my school is the worst for behavioural issues in this whole area. This gave me great relief as I knew I was not, then, to blame for my classes being so disruptive. Last week I used music in my classes, and set a listening activity to Ellie Goulding's version of Your Song. It worked extremely well, and students were encouraged to listen when I threatened to play Justin Bieber if they did not work. 

After all these weeks of struggling with pupils, all I needed was an annoying Canadian teenager to set them straight.

My Narbonne part of the week has been particularly awesome. On Wednesday I went to a French KFC. The grilled chicken burger was delicious. Of course, I wanted a big old bucket of popcorn chicken, but I could not find it on the menu. Exeter's KFC is going to get a good seeing to, let's just say that. I then got very drunk with a couple of Frenchies and les anglaises. My walk home was extra long due to me getting lost and cooking up some pavement pizzas on the way. Consequently, Thursday was a bit of a non-day.

On Friday I planned to do the one thing I have been petrified of doing ever since I arrived in France. I knew it had to be done, I knew I could not wait any longer, but I was scared. I spent the morning on Google and Yahoo Answers looking for advice. I looked through online translators and my trusty Collins dictionary. This was something I could not do alone. I text Chris, a Scottish lad, and told him my plans. He knew, deep down, that he too needed to take this terrifying step, so we met up. After putting off until 6pm, we knew we could not wait any longer. Plucking up every ounce of courage we had, we made our way down the winding French streets. Eventually, we saw the sign and knew it was now or never: it was time to get a haircut. I (and Chris) had taken a giant leap in my linguistic skills and it paid off. Forty minutes later we were respectable young men once more. 

I then went to les anglaises house and we got pizza and watched films. 

The first was Drive, with Ryan Gosling (that bloke from The Notebook with whom every girl fell in love and every man hated). It was bone-crunchingly good... literally, it is gory stuff. I love it.

Then we watched Walk The Line, which of course I had seen before. Amazing film about an amazing man with an amazing surname.

Yesterday (Saturday) I went to Nimes with a German assistant, Anne, and a Spanish assistant, Trini. There we met a French teacher from their school. We, our very multi-cultural little group of four, discovered this new town and saw all the sights.

First, there was Les Arènes (left). We did not go inside, as we planned to return and see it properly at the end of the day. However, unbeknownst to us, it shut at 5pm, with last entry at 4.30pm. We arrived at 4.34pm but they were apparently unable to open a door just four minutes late. Anne, using her impeccable French skills, told them exactly what we thought of their silly system.

Then, we went to La Maison Carrée (right). As you can see, it's a pretty damn nice building. Inside, there is a 3D film about the Roman history of Nimes. I don't mean the crappy 3D you get in the cinema, I mean the 3D that you get in Disney World so you actually jump when gladiators lunge at you with their weapons. 

The final big monument was the La Tour Magne (left). I realise it does not seem very tall, and it probably isn't. However, for me it was a challenge. I mentioned before my fear of bridges, but that is nothing compared to my fear of heights. We went to the top, and I did everything I could not to cry like a little girl, or like gin-drunk Dan Cash. When we reached the beautiful solid ground once more I could not walk properly. I had apparently tensed my body so much during my ascent that when I relaxed, it bloody hurt. I therefore stumbled down towards Les Jardins de la Fontaine (below)

The gardens were lovely, and we had lots of fun taking random photos. Nimes is a beautiful Roman city with an amazing history, that I learnt all about. Of course I have forgotten it all now, but still it was interesting at the time. I think.

In the evening, we returned to Narbonne to celebrate the Scottish assistant Marisa's birthday with a few drinks and Chinese food. French-Chinese food is very different to British-Chinese food, but it was very enjoyable and tasty. The best thing was that I had spoken so much French during the day, that my brain was beginning to ache, as well as my over-worked legs. 

There is nothing like a curry, a beer and speaking in your native tongue to relax in the evening.

I am now preparing for a very easy week of teaching (Tuesday is a teacher's training day, so I get my longest day of work off). I am going to continue with the Ellie Goulding song for the second half of the troisième, and I will find something equally as interesting for the quatrième. Although if inspiration fails me, they can learn about Ellie too.

England is almost here so I know that whatever the pupils throw at me this week, I have a impenetrable force-field of excitement protecting me. Unless, of course, it's a rubber or something..

DC